


aulon raid

by b_auricomus



Category: Frankenstein & Related Fandoms, Frankenstein - Mary Shelley
Genre: Gen, POV First Person, You are Victor Frankenstein
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:33:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24085924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/b_auricomus/pseuds/b_auricomus
Summary: in which victor is unsuccessful in ridding himself of his fears.
Kudos: 3





	aulon raid

Thunder shook the very foundations of the house. Night-storms were wonderful when one was capable of staying warm, but in the damp chill of a too-big house with windows that didn’t shut right with age, I was left shaking under my quilted blanket, the fabric clinging to my frame and only serving to leech from me what remaining warmth I had. This vacation was not how I intended to spend the months approaching my wedding, but I needed an escape, and this was all I could manage on short notice. My mind wandered to Elizabeth back home in Geneva, awaiting my return, and then to my dearest Henry in England before being thrown from these fantasies by the sound of the door being torn open.

It was just the wind. It had to be only the wind. If it were the wind, why did I hear the creaking of old wood? The lumbering of whatever beast intruded into my abode was distinct, heavy footfalls on the floor approaching the hall of my bedroom. I could no longer deny its presence, and alone on the rocky coast of Scotland, the thoughts racing through my mind soon veered towards the worst—would anyone find my body, were I to die on these jagged shores? Arming myself with the only thing I had nearby, a candle holder made of rusting iron, I bravely pushed forward. I got out of bed, frame still shaking with what I assure you was only the cold, and slowly pressed against the bedroom door. Its hinges seemed to scream in protest, and surely whatever creature lurked about in my rental house would now be aware of my presence. What could it be? I feared for the worst, for it to be some great monstrous beasts. I did not expect what I found.

There was nothing. The hall was empty. Spurred on by this victory, I traced back the path I had heard the sound coming from. Perhaps all of it had been only my dreams, those crazed and corrupted by weeks in solitude and fear. I was not so lucky. The door stood open, half-hanging on its hinges from the sheer force of whatever opened it. The wind could never do that. In the dull light of the night—no night is ever wholly dark—I could make out great muddy tracks dragging themselves into my abode. They appeared humanoid, yet far larger. I felt myself pale, a sudden bout of dizziness threatening to bring me to the floor. After a moment of steeling myself and overcoming my momentary weakness, I set off into the house to seek out the monstrosity that had sought my presence.

I knew where it would go: my basement, my laboratory. I approached with cautious fear, I will admit, down those narrow stairs slicked by the water and mud that my unwelcome guest had tracked through. As I stepped down the final stair, lightning split the sky open, a flash of blinding light through the narrow windows lining the top of the wall. He was there, that monstrous being, that accursed creation I regrettably cobbled together with my own hands. He was there, a testament to everything I could not fix in the world. I screamed.


End file.
